May the sacred drops of Soma, O gods, bring to us a thousandfold treasures and heroic strength. These Soma drops, nurturing as mothers to a calf, lovingly surround and embrace him, holding him gently in their hands. O purified, roaring Soma, who brings delight to Indra, destroy all those who harbor hatred against us. The radiant, purified ones, ever driving away hostility, settle upon the sacred bed of the pressing stone. From there, the pressed Soma, rich and sweet, flows for Indra in a stream of truth. The inspired ones call upon Indra to drink of the Soma, just as cows low for their beloved calf. Soma, the wise, abides in his seat, flowing with the river’s waves, resting upon the tawny one. He is the wise poet, magnified in the clear expanse at the very navel of heaven. Within the jars and the purifier, Soma—called Indu—has been lovingly embraced. From the surface of the ocean, Indu will send forth speech, urging on the honey-flowing vessel. The ever-praised tree, with human aid, presses the abundant-yielding cow within, encouraging her forth. O purified Soma, grant us wealth endowed with a thousand powers, make it our own possession, O Indu. The wise poet Soma, pressed and flowing in a stream, moves toward the beloved of heaven, journeying to the farthest one. Your powers rise like the sound of a river’s wave; with your song, urge on the pressing stone. At your stirring, three voices rise, eager for sacrifice, when you ascend to the summit. With clear, unclouded waves, the stones urge forth the dear tawny one—the honey-flowing, purified Soma. O most exhilarating one, flow forth; with your purifier, O wise Soma, establish the very source of the sun. Flow on, adorned with cows and with nights, and enter into Indra’s belly. With this filter, pour yourself around, O Soma who brings delight; descend, newly arrived. In this very way, for Divodāsa, you shattered Śambara, and then aided Turvaśa and Yadu. Pour out for us, O Soma, who knows horses and cows and possesses gold, streams of nourishment a thousandfold. Driving away all obstacles, Soma flows unopposed, making his way to Indra’s abode. Bring us great wealth, O purifying one; defeat our foes and grant us heroic fame, O Soma. Neither a hundred nor stolen riches can diminish you when you purify yourself for giving. Flow with that purifier by which you made the sun shine and stirred the human waters. The sun yoked Etaśa, the mindful purifying one, for travel through the midspace. The bay horses are yoked to the chariot; the sun is set for his journey, and they call Soma ‘Indra.’ Make Agni, the god of fire, united with his flames, the most fit for sacrifice—the messenger at our ritual—he who among mortals is steadfast, mighty, exalted, radiant, pure, and fed with butter. Like a horse snorting in the pasture, Agni shines forth, born of greatness, set apart from Saṃvaraṇa; the wind follows his flame, and your dark path is established. O Agni, newly born and mighty, your undying kindlings move around you; your red smoke rises to the sky. As a messenger, you journey to the gods. We urge Indra with our strength for the great slaying of our foes; let him be the mighty bull. Indra is made for mastery, most vigorous, set for strength—glorious, renowned, Soma-like. With words, the thunderbolt is gathered—powerful, unfailing, fierce, and unbroken, it grows. O priest, bring the pressed Soma with stones to the purifier; cleanse it for Indra to drink. O Indu, the gods have partaken of your exhilarating, sweet essence, and the Maruts of your flowing Soma. Press out the most excellent, sweet Soma from heaven, rich with honey, for Indra, the wielder of the thunderbolt. The skillful juice, supporter of heaven, is purified; the wise, praised by gods and men, the tawny one, is released like a strong steed, making the streams flow unhindered. Like a hero taking up weapons, self-luminous and eager for battle, he stirs Indra’s might with his companions; the Soma, pressed and guided by the wise, is set in motion. O purified Soma, swelling with Indra’s power in your waves, enter the abodes; pour forth for us like lightning from a cloud, and by your wisdom, bring us enduring strength. O Indra, when invoked by men from the east, west, or north, you are always the helper of many and the protector of Turvaśa.